


I don't want to die out here in the valley (waiting for my luck to change)

by VolxdoSioda



Series: Crowe Altius Week 2019 (Complete) [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen, No Kingsglaive Traitors verse, hints of background Noctis/Nyx, pre-ship Crowe/Luna
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 10:19:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18569410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VolxdoSioda/pseuds/VolxdoSioda
Summary: "Hey," Noctis says, and it would almost be soft and cute, the way he reaches out to snag her by her wristband, until he looks up at her and there's a sickening terror behind those blue eyes. "Be careful, okay?"Sometimes, Crowe thinks, two hours and a missed gunshot to the head later, His Highness really needs to chill on the whole 'gut feeling' front.





	I don't want to die out here in the valley (waiting for my luck to change)

**Author's Note:**

> I should probably have mentioned on the first fic, but all the Crowe Week fics take place in the same vague universe.

The escort mission is almost an insult. Almost, Crowe thinks, and that's only because she nearly winds up getting murdered on her way to pick Lady Lunafreya up. Almost, because her former charge and newest pup to the Glaive had literally come up and  _warned her_ to be careful before she left. 

She's used to the boys getting antsy whenever she's pointed in separate directions than they. Libertus worries, because they've already lost so much, and Nyx is clingy, even if he'll die before he admits it. Noctis had been fine, until this morning when Nyx and Libs had seen her off, and Noctis had snuck along. 

She'd said her goodbyes to them, and been preparing to turn and get in the van, when Noctis had shuffled up close, and she'd turned her attention to him on instinct.

_"Hey," Noctis says, and it would almost be soft and cute, the way he reaches out to snag her by her wristband, until he looks up at her and there's a sickening terror behind those blue eyes. "Be careful, okay?"_

Sometimes, Crowe thinks, two hours and a missed gunshot to the head later, His Highness really needs to chill on the whole 'gut feeling' front. 

As it is, riding on the back of a rented chocobo to her next destination, burner phone already in her back pocket, a message to Druatos already sent, is probably the best she's going to get in the meantime.

But  _Six_ what a day.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Crowe knows from her time spent around Noctis that the kid doesn't do a lot of hand-wringing. At least not out in the public face. Behind private doors however, he worries for those he cares for, and will make himself sick if not kept in check. Ignis is good, but he's only one person, and a kid besides. Crowe's the adult in this scenerio, so as soon as she's got Lunafreya with her and they start making tracks back towards society, she calls Noctis.

She knows Drautos is going to frown at her later, but fuck it, that's her boy. 

Noctis picks up on the first ring, and the breathless, " _Crowe?"_ she gets tells her all she needs to know.

"Congrats Highness, on being right again. You know, at the rate we're going, we could make a fortune off you."

That gets her a watery-sounding laugh, but she doesn't call him on it. There's a time and a place for that, and she knows all too keenly the knife-edge of disbelief and relief that plays out when someone comes back to them alive. They would have heard about the assassination attempt by now, but not if she was still alive or not. Noctis might not be a Glaive anymore officially, but he's one of theirs by proxy and adoption. 

 _"I'm sorry,"_ Noctis says.  _"But I'm glad you're okay."_

"And your lady love is with me to boot." She expects to hear sputtering, but all that comes back is a quiet hum of contentment. She raises an eyebrow. "You know, most guys are usually a little more  _excited_ when they hear their fiancee is coming to visit."

_"Oh? Oh! Oh no, Luna's... Luna's grand. But uh. She and I are just friends."_

Ah. Well now, this is interesting. "Does your Dad know?"

 _"He knows."_ Movement in the background, possibly Noctis, possibly one of the Glaives, if Nyx and Libs are being smart and have dragged him along to their hidey-holes for the future.  _"it's one of the reason he wants us to marry. Said we might never love each other, but best friends isn't a terrible way to be either. Better that than being married off to some Imperial."_

"Oh I don't know," Crowe teases lightly. "That Aranea Highwind seems like a fancy lady. She might warm up to you."

He laughs into the phone, which perks Lunafreya's interest. She catches Crowe's eye and mouths 'can I' and Crowe hands her the phone. Luna starts murmuring almost immediately, an easy enough sound to tune out, which lets Crowe focus on their next point of transfer.

When it becomes clear Luna is winding down on the conversation, Crowe murmurs, "Tell the little shit I'll be back in five days, six tops."

Lunafreya smiles and does, and in the background Crowe could swear she hears a very faint  _whoo!_ like what Tredd likes to do when someone comes home early. 

Honestly, those idiots of hers.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

The treaty signing deadline approaches with all the grace of a Dread Behemoth prowling through the hallways. Even with the Oracle housed within Insomnia proper, and every Glaive and Crownsguard at attention, it still feels like they're going up against a giant they can't hope to conquer. 

But that might just be nerves talking.

Crowe doesn't get nervy often. She's trained herself out of it, because getting sick in the heat of battle has never suited her. But every so often with things like this, her body betrays her, and she winds up feeling queasy, unbalanced, and in desperate need of escape, or a bottle of beer, whichever comes first.

His Highness is dressed to the nines, looking grim as he stands besides his father, his Shield, and Lunafreya up there on the podium opposite Aldercapt and his men. The longer she looks at the scene, the worst her gut begins to churn, and Crowe realizes a second too late it's not nerves that are plaguing her.

Just in time for one of Aldercapt's men to step forward and pull a gun, taking aim right between Regis' eyes.

She thinks she makes a noise. A helpless teakettle screech in the back of her throat as time seems to slam on the brakes, and for a moment she's capable of looking around and seeing the way things are going to go. 

She sees the look in Noctis' eyes, and she knows what he plans to do. Grim, determined, as fierce here as he was back on the battlefield all those months ago, protecting her and Nyx from Imperial troops determined to find them. 

Time reasserts itself, and finds Noctis planted between his father and the smoking gun, blood burbling from between his lips as he clutches his side, where crimson stains the white undershirt, bleeding fast and furiously. 

Crowe doesn't remember issuing orders. She doesn't remember the Glaive moving, Nyx and Libertus and so many others swarming their Prince to protect him, putting up a wall of bodies between the Imperials and their monarch, Regis' voice little more than a faint boom in the background as the Armiger appears.

She remembers Lunafreya beside her as they drop to the ground beside Noctis, tearing his clothes back, Lunafreya's flesh cold against her own as their hands both slap over the wound, Noctis hissing out something uncomplimentary seconds before they both sear him with healing. 

Lunafreya's magic feels like a massive ocean being funneled when she heals, at least to Crowe. Held at point by sheer willpower, told where to go by word alone, and kept there by Luna's sheer desire. Crowe's own magic is something more like a great tree, with roots deep and winding through the earth. She pulls power to her from those roots, and lets the tree take what she can't hold in her hands. 

Between them, they hold their Prince's life safe. Even as the roar of voices keeps going around them, accusations hurled and demands made, they keep working to push as much strength back into Noctis as they can. 

And at last, it seems enough. Luna's pale, and Crowe herself is shaking, her hands barely able to hold still even when pressed against Noctis' chest, but they can both feel the magic of the Crystal working on what they haven't touched, and Noctis is breathing, unconscious, but alive. 

It will have to be enough.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

"Thank you," Luna says to her, later, when Aldercapt and his men have fled and Regis has floated by for the seventh time to check on his son, and Nyx has needled Noctis into sipping a little more of the homemade broth that's made to put energy into the body. She's out of the glitz, instead trading it for a simple shirt and pants that are starting to go soft at the knees, her hair down for the first time since Crowe has seen her. Like this, she seems approachable. Soft. Human. Terribly lovely. 

"He's one of ours," Crowe says by way of  _you're welcome_ or  _thanks for not flinching and letting him die on me._ "We don't let go easily."

Her smile is faint, but it's warm, and when she takes Crowe's hand in her own, Crowe can't find a reason to stop her. 

"Yes," she says, "I don't imagine you do."


End file.
